by +

February 16/17, 2019

The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

Pr. Craig Mueller

 

 

I’m Not Feeling It

 

I’m not feeling it. I’m not feeling blessed.

I know we usually talk that way. How much God has blessed us. #blessed. How blessed we are to have so much, more than we could ever need.

And I blame my funk on Luke and today’s gospel. Unlike the sermon on the mount, in Luke Jesus speaks from a level plain. And he levels with us, that’s for sure. Blessed are you who are poor. Blessed are you who are hungry. Blessed are you who weep. Blessed are you who are hated and excluded.

Material abundance then and now is seen as blessing from God. But the Jesus in Luke is always on the side of those who are poor, marginalized, and brokenhearted. It’s in Luke that Mary sings of the lowly lifted up, and the rich sent away empty. It’s in Luke that we’re warned against storing up treasures but not being in rich in God.

Catholic social teaching talks about “God’s preferential option for the poor.” If God is particularly close to those most in need, social justice becomes our calling. But how are the poor blessed? No question, those without much can be both grateful and generous and they have a lot to teach us. But poverty can suck. We shouldn’t glorify it.

Maybe I’m not feeling it this week because I’d rather have Matthew’s version: blessed are the poor in spirit. After all, despite all the stuff we have we are still spiritually empty. Or as one writer puts it: we are afflicted with affluenza. The dis-ease of consumption and consumerism. So we watch ourselves on Netflix as Marie Kondo encourages us to tidy up, get rid of clutter, to choose joy.

But back to Luke and my funk. It’s not just the poor who get the blessing. We get the so-called woes. Woe to the rich, woe to the full, woe to the laughing, woe to the admired. Politicians aren’t going to win with a platform like this. We hear plenty about the middle class and the working class, but advocacy on behalf of the poor? And a church isn’t going to grow if the preacher tells you that your riches, your money, your investments, your savings aren’t your blessing, but your woe. Whoa to that, I say!

Why? Because I am rich. Of course, I don’t want to use the word. There are oodles of people richer than I. You can say the same. But in the world’s history and across the globe today, the vast majority of us here today are rich.

So, shall we voluntarily become homeless? Shall we wallow in guilt? That’s theologically crazy, too. Surely God desires humankind to flourish, to delight in the gifts of life, to experience health and wholeness. That is Jesus’ mission.

Of course, we should be more generous and give more away. But this gospel doesn’t talk about that. And before we give to assuage our liberal guilt, we should remember these words from St. Ambrose in the fourth century: “You are not making a gift of what is yours to the poor—you are giving back to them what is theirs. The earth belongs to everyone, not the rich.”

The thing is the poor need God. Any surprise that our churches are empty? Most of us aren’t desperate for God. We’ve got comfortable lives, health and health insurances. We aren’t in dire need of anything, really. So blessed are the poor, I guess.

I think it’s time to phone a friend, to check in with two of the other readings today. The great thing about the Bible—and our lectionary of Sunday readings—is that we set each passage next to others. And we’ve got other beatitudes today. Other blessing sayings. From Jeremiah: Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord. And from Psalm 1: happy are those whose delight is in the law—the teaching—of the Lord.

When we can’t save the world and we can’t end poverty, when we shake our head when reading the newspaper and don’t know what to do, we turn to God’s promise, we trust in God’s promise. In fact, we become like a tree planted by streams of water—baptismal water that assures us that God desires all creation to flourish—both rich and poor. This kind of flourishing can’t be sold or bought. As we will soon sing, “You feed the hungry in your compassion; healing and life flow from your tree. Happy are all who hope in God, whose grace is rich and deep and broad.”

Without this gift, this source, this blessing all of us on this earth are like a parched tree in the desert. There is simply no relief. And is there any “woe” worse than that?

We pick up our economic and political values from the media, the press, and advertisers. I’m thankful that our denomination, the ELCA, has a social statement called Sufficient, Sustainable Livelihood for All. Let’s turn there for some wisdom for our day. God’s dream is that all flourish. Now I’m feeling that. I’m beginning to get it. That good news is blessing not only for me, but for all.

Here are a few cool nuggets from the statement to give us hope:

The world says autonomy and self-sufficiency are everything. We confess that we depend on God and are interdependent with one another.

The world says succeeding and making something of ourselves is the key to economic success. We confess that we find our ultimate worth through God’s grace, not what we do.

The world encourages us to let the market economy define us by what we buy. We realize that what we want isn’t what we always need for the sake of life.

The world promotes a market economy that wants us to only look out for ourselves. We acknowledge that we also seek our neighbor’s good.

The world promotes an attitude of scarcity. We affirm that God promises a world where there is enough for everyone as we share what God has given for the sake of all.

The blessing is for me and you. The blessing is for those who are poor and in need. The blessing is for all earth creatures—humans, animals, plants. But there is also a call, a challenge, an opportunity to respond. Even with so much, so very much, our hearts are hungry for the fullness that comes from God alone. So live by the baptismal stream of God’s abundance. Come to the table where there is enough for all. And then feel the blessing wash over not only you, but everyone.